Outside it's raining. Not a particularly cold rain, but December rain nonetheless.

Traditions are important.

The Christmas decorations are up. Three trees, colored bulb lights on the balcony, wreath on the door. I haven't written the thank you notes from my birthday gifts just yet, but I'll get to that. And there's the beer that needs to be sent out to friends across the country. Some Wicked Weed sours, Highland Cold Mountain Ale and a few others.

These bumper seasons, fall especially, can feel desperate for the unfortunate few who can't internalize difficult feelings. We have to manufacture the holidays to give us an excuse to just be decent to each other for a while. And I still blasted my car horn each of the last three days at terrible drivers. One fellow swerved into my lane. Another just can't stop texting.

Not that I'm better than others, just a better driver most days. Except for that time last week when I scraped my driver side rear wheel well into a stationary concrete post. There's my idiot tax.

The rain is comforting. The grey clouds help introverts feel at ease with themselves. Things just aren't so open and sunny all the time. Not that an introvert has the market on morose moods, they just don't flip out as badly when they come. They're cheery people, but need the moments of still and grey and rain to digest thoughts. They don't even have to be heavy thoughts. Just some thinking to clear the head on a rainy day.